Supernatural
by TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Sneaking out of camp one night, kit-hood Ashfur meets an intimidating cat in the twolegplace. But there's danger in the forest, and their love is more complicated than anyone knows. AshfurXScourge. T for homosexual themes and violence.
1. Chapter 1

The moonlight spilled into the nursery, illuminating the nest of silver cats. A tiny tom raised his head. He glanced down at his sister, who still slept peacefully-he wouldn't disturb her. This was to be his venture and his alone. He had to prove that he deserved to be made an apprentice just as much as Cloudpaw! Cloudpaw was younger than him, and he and Fernkit were already past six moons old! That silly Bluestar. He had heard Fireheart whispering about her when he apologized to Brindleface for the apprenticeship mishap.

Ashkit hopped out of the nursery. Darkstripe, who had been appointed a night watch, was not there; he always seemed to sneak off at night, which was why Ashkit had planned this for tonight. He went to the dirtplace first and rolled about to mask his scent, and then he raced out of camp up the ravine and into the territory, far out of the world of camp as he knew it. The fresh forest air teased his nose, and he parted his jaws to get the full experience. Mice, birds, squirrels, voles, night, rain-everything. He loved the forest already.

But he had to get to work. He was going to hunt for the clan and prove that he was ready to be an apprentice!

Ashkit moved across the moonlight-dappled forest floor, but with the poor lighting, he couldn't detect prey very easily. He almost had a mouse, but it fled back to its hole before he nabbed it, so he went onward. He stretched further and further across the territory, almost to what he assumed was the twolegplace, but his limbs didn't tire; after all, he was half-grown, more than ready to be an apprentice, and overlooked by everyone in place of that idiotic kittypet. Grumbling to himself about the uselessness of Cloudpaw, he had almost forgotten his plan to hunt until a strong bit of mouse came to him, and he paused, searching for it. He pinpointed the small critter with his eyes, and he bent over into his hunting crouch to get it.

One. Two. Three. He jumped and successfully made his first kill-and immediately afterward, he found himself flipped onto his back and held down with claws digging into his chest fur. "Kitten!" growled the unfamiliar cat. "What are you doing? Stealing prey from BloodClan?"

Ashkit crinkled his nose when he realized the other cat was no larger than him, made to look more intimidating with claws and a pointy collar. "This is ThunderClan territory," he reported falsely, unaware that he had crossed the ThunderClan border a few minutes before. "And what's BloodClan? There are only four clans in the forest."

Icy eyes glinted, and the black cat hissed. "I should kill you-but I don't make a habit of murdering kittens."

Ashkit frowned. "I'm no more kitten than you."

The black cat flipped him back onto his stomach and shoved him forcefully. "Go back to your camp, and stay away from here. It's not safe." His tail tip twitched, and he kept glancing around as if to make sure that no one was watching. Could he be embarrassed? Of what? Talking to a kit?

Ashkit straightened, but instead of fleeing frightened back to his territory, he approached the cat again. He didn't think the black cat was scary at all. After all, they were the same size, and warriors had to protect kits. It was part of the warrior code. Still, he didn't want to be manhandled again, so he kept his distance when he sat down. "What's your name?"

Icy eyes flashed. "Scourge," hissed the cat. He lashed his tail and stood. "I said leave, kitten."

"My name's not kitten. My name's Ashkit." He tilted his head. "That's a strange warrior name. Scourge. I like it." He purred. "I'm gonna be an apprentice soon. When I bring this mouse back to ThunderClan, Bluestar will be sure to know I'm as good as Cloudpaw!" He kneaded the ground with his paws. "You must be a really good warrior. I've never seen claws like those before. I'll bet you're, like, the best in the forest-except for ThunderClan, ThunderClan is always the best."

Against his better judgment, Scourge watched the kit through narrowed eyes before he dared to ask, "Who is...Cloudpaw?" This was a golden opportunity to learn about the clans, to claim the forest as his own as it rightfully was. His eyes took a new glow. No one would see, and if they did, he would kill them. This clan kit would harm no one and would only help BloodClan rise-and he would probably make a formidable fighter, too.

Ashkit growled. "My foster brother. He's younger than me, and he's a kittypet! But he got made an apprentice first! Before me or Fernkit! And we're older!" He felt a need to stress every syllable.

"Is there something...wrong with kittypets?" asked Scourge, his voice delicate and clean. What did this kit think of his heritage, the heritage of BloodClan? Surely his view would reflect that of all the clans. If they looked down upon housecats, they would underestimate the power that grew within the twolegplace. His tail tip twitched with thought.

The kitten's face turned. "Ick!" He shook himself. "Fireheart was a kittypet, a long time ago, but he's not anymore." He then paused, glancing at Scourge. "But what do you care anyway? You're a clan cat-even if I've never heard of BloodClan, it is a clan, isn't it?" His nose scrunched up, and his blue eyes glowed when he asked the question. He liked this warrior-he felt like a friend, even if he did smell a bit funny. "I mean, you've got a weird name, but so do lots of cats. One-eye is one of the ThunderClan elders!" He chuckled at the mention of that name.

Scourge lashed his tail. "Of course BloodClan is a clan." He growled. "I don't want to find you outside of ThunderClan territory again-and don't tell anyone about this. Okay?" He didn't like to put his faith in a kitten, but with the age of the kitten, he estimated Ashkit would be venturing out into the forest more and more, and that would give him ample time to use the kit as a spy. If he needed, he could resort to blackmail, but with the honesty and openness of the kitten now, he hoped that information would come freely and without the expense of anyone's lives. He didn't mind killing, but he didn't like risking a lower population of BloodClan.

"Okay!" Ashkit cheered, but then he paused. "Can I come see you again when I'm an apprentice? Please? I'll do it at night and in secret. I think you're cool."

Scourge's tail lashed once more. "If you remain silent to your clanmates, I will find a way to visit you again," he promised. "Go home. And watch out. There are many dangers in these trees." He grabbed the mouse that Ashkit had caught and ignored the small gray kit's protests, turning to walk away, but once he had drawn behind a fence, he waited to make sure the angry kitten returned to the treeline from which he had emerged. A part of him worried, but he assured himself that Tigerclaw and his crew wouldn't hurt a kitten, and soothing himself with that notion, he dashed away to return to the BloodClan camp.

A/N: Well I'm usually not much of a writer, but after viewing a couple AshfurXScourge videos on Youtube, I decided to start writing about them. This is like the prologue; the rest of the chapters will be quite a bit longer than this. I apologize with any inconsistencies with the books, as it's been a long time since I've read them.


	2. Chapter 2

Newly named Ashpaw leaned up and touched noses with Dustpelt. The tom looked a bit less grumpy than normal, and he was glad that he got a young warrior as a mentor instead of the icky, old Darkstripe like Fernpaw. He purred, and Dustpelt returned the sentiment. Bluestar ended the ceremony and hopped down off of Highrock, and Ashpaw followed Dustpelt. "When are we going to go out?" demanded the young tom. He had never been caught after his first escapade out of camp, and he was excited to smell the forest again-and he was excited, secretly, to have a chance of seeing Scourge again. The black tom had appeared many times in his dreams, and Fernpaw suspected something, but she hadn't been brave enough to confront him yet.

Dustpelt flicked his tail and sighed patiently, all of the glee fleeing him. "We'll go when I say we go," he told the gray cat, who slumped in disappointment. "After breakfast I'll find a patrol to take you out, okay?" Dustpelt promised, and he took a squirrel. "Remember, no eating until I say."

Ashpaw lashed his tail. "I know, I'm not dumb! Cloudpaw's been an apprentice for a whole moon, and he's younger than me, so I think _I_ can handle apprentice duties!" he reported. Dustpelt rolled his eyes and flicked his tail in dismissal, so Ashpaw ran back to Fernpaw and sat with her to share tongues. Darkstripe wasn't all that interested in his new apprentice, either, so it appeared that they were in the same both. What luck! They were finally made apprentices a moon late, and their mentors didn't even care about them! Cloudpaw got his uncle as a mentor, and Fireheart loved him a lot. He sighed. Well, maybe after Cloudpaw became a warrior they would be recognized… he hoped. And he felt his belly rumble, even more to his disappointment. He exchanged a glance with Fernpaw, who shrugged her indifference at his hunger and then stood, going to join Brindleface. He didn't want to face his mom just yet. She would be disappointed that they weren't going out on patrol, and he knew she liked Cloudpaw more than him, and he hated that fact. He shook out his pelt and began to groom himself while his eyes wandered around camp for something to do with his newfound apprenticeship.

He decided on checking out the apprentices' den. He smelled Thornpaw, Cloudpaw, Swiftpaw, and Brightpaw already on the interior, and he stripped out a new piece of moss to make himself a bed, squishing it on the exterior of Cloudpaw's. He still loved his foster brother very much, but he had a fair share of jealousy against the white tom because of how the other cats treated him. He glanced down at his paws as he rested on the moss, his mind wandering back to Scourge. He knew by now that there couldn't be a real such thing as BloodClan, but he couldn't question any of the other warriors about it, being sworn to secrecy by the black tom. As much as he wanted to corner a senior warrior with questions and badger them to death, he knew it would accomplish little to nothing, and it would make Scourge angry at him. He didn't want Scourge to be angry with him-he liked Scourge, even if they had only met once, and over a moon ago.

"Ahem." Ashpaw jumped and glanced up at Sandstorm. The ginger she-cat, who apparently had finished chewing out Fireheart, smiled at him and flicked her tail. "Whitestorm and I are going on patrol. Ready for your first venture out in the forest?"

Ashpaw sprang to his paws. _Not my first_ , he mentally corrected, and then he said, "Of course!" before hesitating with a, "Did Dustpelt say it's okay?" He quivered a little bit at his extremities, mentally judging Whitestorm and Sandstorm. Would he be able to escape them and sneak off to meet Scourge? What if he introduced them to Scourge? Would they like him? What if they made Scourge a ThunderClan warrior?

"Ashpaw? Did you hear me?" He jolted again, and then he shook his head. She giggled at him. "Got a she-cat at mind, I suppose." His pelt warmed. "Dustpelt doesn't care. C'mon, we're gonna go by the twolegplace. It's easy to catch birds there, and we want to see what you can do before we get to the nitty gritty of your training."

The twolegplace, he thought with excitement, and his eyes shone to reflect his opinion of the patrol. Luckily, she didn't notice, and she led him back out to Whitestorm, who grinned. "Are you excited?" asked the large white tom, and Ashpaw nodded. "That's good." He flicked his tail. "Come on, the twolegplace always has some nice chubby pigeons." He headed into the trees with Sandstorm hot on his heels, and Ashpaw trotted behind her. The forest was very different in the sunlight, but he didn't mind, though he worried if he would recognize Scourge without the moonlight lighting his eyes just so. _Of course I will_ , he scolded himself, _I'll know his scent._

The trip, though, seemed longer; they passed some torn up trees with large monsters in the woods that he didn't remember from the last time, having been so lost that he paid little heed to his surroundings. He followed them right to the border, and without noticing, he just kept walking. "Ashpaw!" called Sandstorm with a chuckle. "The border is right here. There aren't any other clans on the other side, but we don't cross unless it's to collect herbs or we're extremely hungry.

"What about-um…" Ashpaw caught himself mid-phrase, and he tried to seem disappointed. "I mean, I just thought that we would see some other clan borders today."

Whitestorm shook his head. "And it's a good thing. You would have mowed right over that one, and we would be facing charges."

"I'm sorry."

The white tom purred. "We all make mistakes. Now, have any of the older apprentices showed you things before?" Sandstorm, distracted, split off to hunt, too impatient to wait around for the actual teaching part of mentoring. After all, Fireheart had chosen Dustpelt, not her, and Dustpelt was already shirking his duties. She knew that by the end of things she would have proven that she was the better choice.

Ashpaw nodded. "Cloudpaw shows me everything!" he boasted. "As soon as he gets back from patrol. Thornpaw helps, sometimes, too."

Whitestorm nodded, but his face showed some apprehension. "Cloudpaw doesn't know everything, I'm afraid," he warned the young tom. "But I want to see what you can do, first, so get to work. I'll have my eye on you." He nodded, and he turned away in pursuit of a mouse-scent.

Ashpaw stood for a few moments, and when he could no longer see Whitestorm's solid white pelt, he turned to look across the border at the twolegplace, perching up on his hind legs to see around one of the houses. There! A cat! He parted his jaws to taste the air, but it was too far away to identify the cat as Scourge or not. A black cat with a white paw. He could tell that much. He glanced over his shoulder, and then he stepped across the border. Neither Whitestorm nor Sandstorm jumped out to scold him, so he figured he was free to go. Luckily, a fat bird landed a few yards away from him, in between him and the black cat. He took up the bird stalk that Cloudpaw had showed him and started toward the bird, and toward the cat. His eyes darted up to look at the cat once more. He swore he saw a flash of icy blue eyes as the head bobbed, nodding to him to continue his kill. Pride flashed through him, and he sprang. He grabbed the bird by the wing with both paws, and it began to squawk a loud alarm. He sprang again and battled it a bit before he tore out its throat.

He looked up, instinctively toward the black cat, but he saw only the tip of a tail disappearing as the cat left, and disappointment quickly replaced his pride. "Ashpaw! You're across the border!" called an irritated Sandstorm. A mouse lay at her paws. Whitestorm came behind her with a bird in his jaws, and he set it down, though he didn't speak, only beckoned Ashpaw with his tail.

Ashpaw gathered the chubby pigeon in his jaws and approached the warriors again, but a bit warily. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It caught my eye and I forgot everything else." _Scourge caught my eye and I forgot everything else._ He shivered at that thought, and immediately after, his pelt heated with an embarrassed warmth.

Whitestorm flicked his tail. "You killed it, and that's good. But you can't randomly cross any border. You're going to have to learn that." He glanced at Sandstorm. "I think we're best to head deeper into the territory before some kittypet gets angry with us. We've heard reports of them being more hostile lately, and we're better safe than sorry, especially with him." Ashpaw felt shame course through him but he didn't comment.

Sandstorm agreed. "Let's head back toward camp and hunt as we go, say?" she suggested, and Whitestorm nodded, offering another murmur of agreement. The white tom led them with Sandstorm close at his side, but Ashpaw hung back. He turned back to look one more time, but any hint of Scourge had disappeared.

 **…** **-...-...-...AshfurXScourge...-...-...-...**

After night had fallen and he had filled his belly, Ashpaw still couldn't shake the notion that Scourge had been watching him today, encouraging him to make his kill-on BloodClan territory, no less. And there was no clan on that side of the border, anyway, so what even was BloodClan? Was it possible that Whitestorm, a senior warrior, knew nothing of the a whole clan that existed in the forest? Or was there something deeper going on underneath the notice of all clan cats? His tail tip twitched while he thought. Thornpaw, Brightpaw, Swiftpaw, and Fernpaw were all sound asleep, but Cloudpaw was awake, and his dark eyes fixed upon Ashpaw. He gave a slight smile. "What's up?" he asked, scooting closer to Ashpaw so he wouldn't disturb any of the other cats. "You look like something's bothering you." Ashpaw shook his head. Scourge was something for him and him alone, something that Cloudpaw's entitlement wouldn't take from him. He deserved to have just one thing to himself.

Still, Cloudpaw wasn't convinced. "Hey," suggested the white tom, "let's go out of camp. I've got something I want to show you."

Ashpaw hesitated. Mischief on his first night as an apprentice? He didn't want to get into trouble, especially since he'd missed a bullet with crossing the border twice earlier. His tail tip twitched a bit more. "What is it?" he hedged, reluctant to risk it, but...it might give him the opportunity to sneak off and see if he could find Scourge. He wanted more than anything to see Scourge again. Just for a moment, he wondered what the other cats would think of him wanting to visit a cat who lay outside ThunderClan, but he pushed that notion aside. Scourge wasn't a bad cat, and it was okay to have friends outside the clans. Brindleface had always told him that it was best to make friends at gatherings so that he would have allies if a battle involving more than one clan popped up.

"It's this cool thing-at the twolegplace." Ashpaw's heart skipped a beat. What if Cloudpaw had met Scourge, too? Scourge wasn't his at all. Cloudpaw grinned. "C'mon-come with me. We'll be back soon, it'll just take a few minutes, I promise. And it'll fill your belly, and nobody will know." Ashpaw's ear twitched, and just because of that last bit, he nodded in agreement. He wasn't hungry, of course, but it might come in handy in case Dustpelt ever forgot that he existed, which he worried would happen sometime or another. And he wanted to see Scourge. StarClan, he wanted to see Scourge so much, it was driving him crazy. "C'mon. Runningwind is asleep-he was supposed to be on guard duty, but, you know." Cloudpaw shook it off and left the den, and with a final glance down at his sister, Ashpaw followed him. "You're not going to believe it."

Ashpaw nodded along with him once they were out of camp. "But eating?" he queried. "Won't the other cats smell prey on us? It's against the warrior code." He didn't care if he got to eat. He did care if he got to see Scourge. I'm setting myself up for disappointment, he told himself, but he couldn't kill the hope that the tom would be waiting on him. Maybe he'd sneak off while Cloudpaw ate. That would be best-everybody knew that when Cloudpaw ate, nothing would get in between him and his prey.

"They can't smell what we eat," Cloudpaw said, and Ashpaw flattened his ears, but he didn't reply. It sounded awfully nasty, some kind of prey that had no prey scent. No blood, warm fur or feathers? What could it be? Even fish and frogs had unique smell to them. What sort of thing would they eat that the other cats couldn't detect?

The white cat moved through the darkened territory with a surprising obliviousness; he stomped right past a sleeping adder that luckily didn't awaken, though Ashpaw dodged it by a long shot. They moved through the sleeping forest toward the twolegplace, and the white apprentice stepped over the border with not even a bit of hesitation, as though he'd forgotten there was a border there. Ashpaw paused, looked around, and then followed. "Are you sure we won't get in trouble?" he asked Cloudpaw, and his eyes scanned the area anxiously. He parted his jaws. He smelled no recent scents of other cats… But he drew away from the other apprentice toward the alley in which he'd seen the cat earlier, and he smelled a distinctly familiar scent. "He was here," he whispered to himself. He looked around, and he parted his jaws to call out to Scourge, but Cloudpaw summoned him.

"Ashpaw? What are you doing? C'mon, get out of that alley! That's where all the rogues go to eat crowfood!"

Crinkling his nose, Ashpaw turned back to Cloudpaw. "Just a second-I-I smell mouse!" A lie, and a fairly bad one at that, but Cloudpaw was too distracted by whatever food had drawn him to care that Ashpaw was distracted. Stalking deeper into the alley, the gray cat cautiously called, "Scourge? Are you here?" He waved his tail, and his parted jaws detected a cat around the corner. "I can smell you. Why are you hiding?"

He heard the purr before Scourge made himself appear. His single white paw stood out from the shadows surrounding him, and his frosty eyes gleamed. "Testing your senses," he praised. "I saw you kill the bird today, Ashkit. Messy catch."

"I'm Ashpaw now." The gray tom flattened his ears, and his pelt warmed in embarrassment. "Well, I was a little distracted."

"Right-you clan cats change your names as you mature." Scourge drew nearer. In the moon that had passed since Scourge had last seen the young cat, he'd grown; before they were the same size, but now Ashpaw had him thwarted by a few inches. Nothing that he wasn't accustomed to. He had killed cats three times his size in mere seconds. But he had no desire to kill Ashpaw. The young tom would benefit BloodClan, and he seemed entirely oblivious to that fact of yet. And, of course, he was dashingly handsome. Scourge knew the last part played into his decision to let Ashpaw live more than he really liked to let on.

Ashpaw tilted his head. "You told me not to tell, and I haven't." His tail tip twitched. "But what is BloodClan? It's no clan of the forest. You don't smell of any prey, and you have no clan name. Did you make that up?"

Scourge gave another purr, a sound that made Ashpaw's insides warm, and his eyelids drifted at the sound. "All in good time, Ash _paw_." He flicked his tail. "BloodClan is not a clan in the sense that you know one, but it is a clan. I am its leader." He judged Ashpaw's reaction; the dark blue eyes brightened a bit, and then the gray tom appeared apprehensive, but he said nothing, only waiting for more explanation that he would not receive tonight. "I had hoped you would return to see me sooner," said the black cat, changing the subject. He offered a rare smile, hoping to reassure the young apprentice that he had not come uninvited. He drew a bit closer to the apprentice, and then he sat down with still a fair amount of distance between them. His claws glinted in the moonlight, but he had no intention of using them tonight. It was refreshing to speak to someone with clean intentions. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to someone without wanting to kill them, but Ashpaw simply quieted that part of him in a way that he couldn't explain.

Ashpaw glanced at the ground before he looked up to meet Scourge's intense blue gaze. "I wanted to!" he insisted in earnest, "every day! But Bluestar made me and Fernpaw apprentices a whole moon late, and I didn't dare sneak out of camp again. Brindleface was mad because I rolled in the dirtplace so no one would follow my trail, and kits aren't allowed out of camp, and it's really dangerous for us all now that Tigerclaw and his crew is on the loose, and today I wanted to talk to you but you were there and you were gone-"

Scourge chuckled, but his voice was dark at the mention of Tigerclaw. He knew that the dark tom hid more than he let on behind those amber eyes-and he wouldn't have someone near who threatened an innocent young cat such as Ashpaw. "You needn't explain yourself." He flicked his tail in dismissal. "I couldn't risk your clanmates seeing me today." He would have killed one of them if confronted, and he didn't want Ashpaw to see that side of him. Not yet. He needed Ashpaw to trust him, and Ashpaw would never trust someone who ripped the intestines out of his friends. "Clan cats are often not so fond of outsiders, and they would not be happy to know about BloodClan." Ashpaw looked uncertain, but he soothed, "They will know in due time. But not now."

Ashpaw nodded. "I understand." He didn't, but he trusted Scourge-perhaps wrongfully. Distantly, he heard Cloudpaw calling his name, and he flattened his ears. "I don't want to leave," he whined to Scourge.

The black tom drew back into the shadows. "You can come with me if you want. But you won't like what you find. My life is very different from yours." The night shadows absorbed all of him except his startling icy eyes.

"Ashpaw! Hello? Where are you?"

Ashpaw turned over his shoulder. "Coming, Cloudpaw!" He lunged forward, much to Scourge's surprise, and rubbed his cheek against the other tom's on an impulse. Only the bright eyes gleamed a satisfied shock, and Ashpaw licked his nose just for a bit of fun. "I'll try to come back soon," he promised the black cat, and he drew away when he heard Cloudpaw call his name again. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" He raced around the corner of the alley toward his friend. "What's wrong?"

"Where were you? I was worried sick!" demanded the white tom. He peered down the back alley, but Scourge was already back in hiding. "You missed all of the food. The twolegs caught me and chased me off-hey, didn't you say you smelled mouse earlier? Didn't catch it, did you? Good thing, the others would smell that on you in the morning, don't wanna get in trouble. What kept you in that alley so long anyway?"

"Just poking around," said Ashpaw, and he shrugged it off. Cloudpaw began to ramble at him again, not hesitating for a second to believe the gray cat, and he momentarily felt guilty about his lie. But when he thought of Scourge's icy eyes, all the guilt ebbed. The others wouldn't understand Scourge like he did, and he needed the black tom in his life. He wouldn't risk being kept away from Scourge just to tell the truth to his clanmates. And maybe that meant he wasn't good. Maybe that meant something bad. Maybe he was breaking the warrior code. But Bluestar already thought that he was worse than everyone else, and he deserved something for himself. Something to make him feel special. Scourge was that something, and he would fight for the black tom-and he would feel great to see him again tomorrow night.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean, Cloudpaw is gone?" Ashpaw demanded, his voice going shrill. He turned back to look at his sister. "We-We have to go get him, don't we?" Fernpaw shook her head, backing away, before she rushed to Brindleface to report the news. He flattened his ears and looked at Fireheart. "Please-let me go find him with you!" he pleaded. "He's my best friend." He should have known to dissuade his friend from going with the twolegs! There was a reason that the cats didn't trust them.

Fireheart shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous. Stay here and guard the camp, okay? Sandstorm, let's go." The ginger she-cat brushed past Ashpaw as if he weren't even standing there, and they both ran out of camp together with Ravenpaw, leaving the flecked gray tom staring intently after them. He could feel the eyes of the camp on him, and with a growl of disappointment, he dashed toward the apprentices' den, burrowing himself in the moss. He could hear Brindleface and Fernpaw murmuring back and forth to each other, but they didn't get it. He regretted everything he'd ever said against Cloudpaw. Cloudpaw deserved to be a warrior like the rest of them, and it wasn't his fault that Bluestar favored him over everyone else!

No one came to comfort him. The camp was in turmoil. The deputy had left, and Bluestar was crazed, and Whitestorm could only try to keep everyone calm. Mousefur and Runningwind shared tongues in the corner of camp. Dustpelt, Longtail, and Darkstripe muttered to one another back and forth; the latter snapped something at the first two, and they turned to leave him alone, but they continued to talk amongst themselves. Ashpaw peered out of the den. He needed to go after Fireheart and Sandstorm and find his brother! How did they even know that they would find the right twoleg house? It made no sense, none of their plan-but he knew who could help. "Scourge," he whispered to himself. He had seen the black tom a few times since the first time he and Cloudpaw had sneaked out of camp, but always with Cloudpaw, so they never got to talk long. But this was _important._ He had to go see Scourge. Scourge would help him find his foster brother. He looked out of the den. There was no way for him to leave camp without being noticed. With a soft growl, he turned and boldly ripped a hole in the side of the apprentices' den. It left his paw torn by the thorns, but he didn't care. He jumped out of the hole, leaving some of his pelt, before he bolted out into the forest.

The trees raced by him as he ran so quickly that he wondered if he would catch up to Sandstorm and Fireheart, but he caught no sight of them. He ran straight through the treecut place. He splashed in an oily puddle that made his bleeding paw burn, and by the time he reached the twolegplace, he was moving almost completely on his three good legs. "Scourge!" he wailed, not even caring if he was heard. He limped into the alley where he and the black tom always met. "Scourge! I need your help!" Nothing. He opened his mouth, but he didn't smell his friend. "Please!" he wailed.

"Clan cat!" growled a large black and white tom.

"Huh?" He'd never seen a cat from here that wasn't Scourge, but he had no time to analyze that fact; the giant cat, twice the size of Whitestorm, bowled him over and began to tear at him in such a vicious way that Ashpaw was too shocked to even unsheathe his claws. "Scourge!"

He smelled his friend before the tiny tom slammed into the black and white one. "Get off of him!" snarled Scourge. He raked his large claws down the other cat's side, leaving him hissing and streaming blood. "Don't-you-ever!" he spat, and despite the size difference, the offender cowered. "Get out of my sight, Bone! You're lucky I spare your life!" The cat didn't even apologize; he only turned and raced away whimpering. Icy eyes turned to Ashpaw with a concern that the gray cat hadn't seen in them before. "Ashpaw. I'm sorry." He offered the apology that Bone hadn't. "He was under orders. I haven't told them about you."

Ashpaw pushed himself up with his one good paw. He held the injured one about the ground. "I need your help." Blood streamed into one of his eyes, and a long scar on his flank made it hurt to breathe too deeply. "My brother-Cloudpaw-missing-kidnapped-you gotta help me-" His breaths came in short gasps. He'd never actually been attacked before, not with unsheathed claws, and no amount of training from any cat could prepare him for the first time claws pierced his flesh and tore his fur. "Please-he's my best friend," he managed, and his eyes fluttered closed. He couldn't stand the thought of what he'd do without Cloudpaw.

Scourge's tongue rasped over the cut above his eye. "Lie down," he soothed. "You need to rest." He turned and dragged a large cardboard box from beside the dumpster to him. "Lie down." He nudged the apprentice until Ashpaw's strength began to waver, and he slid into the box.

"But-Cloudpaw-"

"I saw your friends go by earlier. Headed in the right direction. They'll find him." Scourge made sure Ashpaw settled in the box, and then he slid in beside him, much to Ashpaw's surprise. Scourge's body was smaller than his, but the black tom had a certain warmth to him that Ashpaw had never known before. "Try to rest. I'll protect you," promised the small cat. Ashpaw turned his head back to look at Scourge, assuring himself that the cat beside him was indeed the same cat who had refused to call him his given name on the first night they met. Scourge licked his eyes closed, eliciting a purr from the apprentice, who settled comfortably.

He didn't sleep. His entire body felt electric as Scourge's rough tongue rasped over his fur, grooming him rhythmically. He jerked a bit when the tom reached a wound, and each time, Scourge would softly apologize and graze carefully over the wound until the bleeding stopped. The black tail moved with his, resting against his body, and after awhile, they twined their two tails. "Scourge?" mumbled the gray cat. "You wouldn't really kill him, would you?" His voice was a quiet slur.

Scourge hesitated. That had been his intention. But Bone was loyal and skilled, self-appointed to take his place when the day finally came that someone took the life from his body. "Of course not," he replied just a bit late. Ashpaw didn't deserve to know any of that yet. "Let me see your paw." Obediently, the flecked gray cat rolled over and offered his paw to Scourge, not doubting for a moment his honesty. The black tom felt a stab of guilt, but he knew as he licked Ashpaw's foot that he would never lose his insatiable drive for the taste of blood. Even from the apprentice he held dear, the feeling and thickness of it in his mouth, the way it moved down his throat, gave him such an extreme sense of pleasure. "You need to have your cat vet look at that," he told him.

"My what?" queried Ashpaw, blinking at Scourge in confusion. He shook his head, deciding not to debate over it. Such a trivial matter. "Are you sure they'll find Cloudpaw?" he asked when Scourge let him have his foot back. He licked it himself a few times before he made eye contact with the tom with worry on his face. "I still feel like I should go after him…" He was uncertain, but he wanted more than anything to stay with Scourge.

Scourge shook his head. "Stay. They'll find him. I promise." He had seen Cloudpaw when the twolegs took him away, and he'd seen the two ginger cats in hot pursuit. He knew that they would bring him back or die trying. The beauty of clan cats, of course, was their ability to sacrifice for one another so freely. They trusted so easily, so willingly. Had things gone differently with his life, he would have wanted to be a clan cat, but he had chosen this path as his own. "You worry too much, Ashpaw. The cat deserved a bit of a fright, and he got it. He'll never make that mistake again." Scourge flicked his tail over Ashpaw's flank. "When you first came here, you were jealous of him."

"I still am," admitted Ashpaw, "but it's not his fault that Bluestar likes him better. Bluestar is crazy. Everybody knows so. Some of the kits already call Fireheart Firestar, because they think he's going to be leader soon." He shivered at that notion. He didn't want to see the change of a leader in his lifetime. It was a traumatic thing that no clan cat deserved to experience. But Fireheart was already practically leading the clan with heavy assistance from Whitestorm; he was lucky that Bluestar had come to enough to make him and Fernpaw apprentices. "But that's not really her fault, either," he continued, "because Tigerclaw was the one who messed it all up." He wilted a little. "He set out all of these ShadowClan cats on us, and then he tried to kill Bluestar because he was deputy and if she was dead, then he would become leader-"

"I know Tigerclaw," interrupted Scourge. Ashpaw looked at him with some surprise. "Not well. He and his band have been in and out of BloodClan territory." He shook his head. "We set our claws to one of his younger cats, and afterwards they didn't mess with us." He had heard too much from Ashpaw about the brown cat to trust anything that came from his mouth, and so far the dark cat only had intentions of dragging BloodClan into clan cat matters. Despite the name, BloodClan was not and would never be a forest clan. "He's a dangerous cat."

Ashpaw nodded eagerly. "But Bluestar doesn't think she can trust anyone now that Tigerclaw betrayed her. She turned her back on StarClan, even!"

His wide eyes said that StarClan was a pretty big deal. It was not a name that Scourge recognized. "I thought," purred the black cat, "you said there were only four clans in the forest?" He licked Ashpaw's ear as the nick in it had begun to bleed again. Ashpaw kept twitching it. "Stop that, I'm trying to help you," he scolded, and Ashpaw giggled, claiming, "But it tickles!"

The gray cat pulled his ear away. "StarClan isn't in the _forest_ , silly." Scourge's eyes flashed at the pet name, but Ashpaw rolled onto his back to show the other tom his soft and vulnerable belly. "StarClan-they're up there." He pointed up to the darkening sky with his soft paw. Silverpelt was just beginning to peek through at them, but pink and orange hues of sunset still showed. "Each star up there, it's a spirit of a cat." He pointed up at the dusky sky with one paw. "See? They guide our pawsteps, and they help keep us safe. They send us warnings, and omens, and prophecies, through our medicine cats and leaders." He glanced over at Scourge, whose eyes were fixed intensely upon him, not upon the sky. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he queried.

Scourge leaned up against him. "You are particularly handsome in the moonlight," he said in a voice as plain as ever, but he complied with Ashpaw's wishes, rolling onto his back to look up at the stars. The gray cat purred and pawed at him playfully. "Hey, knock it off!" he teased. "I only tell the truth!" He caught one of Ashpaw's paws in his mouth, and he gave it a light nibble, making the apprentice chuckle. Their antics calmed a bit more as both sets of blue eyes fixed up on the sky again. "So," mused Scourge, "do all cats go to StarClan? When they die?"

Ashpaw frowned. "I don't know." The black cat glanced at him with worry, and he continued, "I mean-technically-they're supposed to, but there are rumors that you have to be a good cat, you know? That's why we follow the warrior code. We have to be good in order to make it StarClan." He looked over at Scourge, and he frowned. "You don't know about the warrior code, do you?" he guessed.

The black tom shook his head. "BloodClan isn't a clan in the way you think of one, Ashpaw-not at all. I don't know anything about your customs and your lifestyle." He offered a single paw to touch Ashpaw's chest.

He looked down at the large claws. They parted his chest fur, even sheathed. "The warrior code," he said as he watched the moonlight glint off of the claws, "is our law. We're not allowed to hunt on each other's territories, or apprentice kits too young, or kill each other without probable cause. I mean, most of it is specific to us, so you're safe. StarClan's got a place for everyone," he promised. He curled closer to Scourge. "Do you think that BloodClan would want to join ThunderClan? I'll bet Fireheart would really like you. He's really cool, and he used to be a kittypet, too." He grinned at the notion of Scourge joining the clan. Scourge would be a great warrior, even though Longtail would probably make him lose his collar.

Scourge's pelt warmed. "What would I have to do to be a clan cat?" he asked, daring to entertain the notion just to make Ashpaw feel better. He flicked his tail over the young cat's underbelly, and the gray batted at it playfully.

"Well-I don't know. You already probably do most of it. Hunting, mostly, but we have to do border patrols to mark our land, and then sometimes we fight." He glanced at the intimidating studded collar. "And the collar would have to go. Longtail almost killed Fireheart the first day he came to camp with his."

The smaller cat nodded. "Alright." He offered his neck to Ashpaw. The dark plastic clip glinted just a bit. With wide eyes, Ashpaw studied him, and then he leaned forward. He secured his teeth on the clip, and with a gentle tug, the collar unhooked itself and fell to their paws. Scourge gave him a soft look. "Am I a true leader of a clan now, Ashpaw?"

Ashpaw pressed his muzzle up against the other cat's. "Of course." He licked Scourge's face. "Scourgestar," he said. "A true leader of BloodClan." He put his paw over Scourge's. "I'm glad I snuck out of camp that night," he told the black cat. "I'm glad I met you." He rested his head on top of Scourge's, and the black tom rubbed his face up against Ashpaw's neck.

"I'm glad, too," said the black cat softly. Ashpaw lowered his head to gently lap at his ruffled fur where the collar had been. "Ashpaw?" Scourge asked in a voice so quiet, almost shy, that Ashpaw stopped and glanced at him. "Would-Would you like to be my mate?"

The gray blinked in surprise. He had expected many things from Scourge's tongue, but never that-never, even if he returned those feelings to the other tom. He touched his nose to Scourge's. "Of course," he said. He forgot the warrior code. He forgot Sandstorm and Fernpaw and Cloudpaw and Brindleface and Dustpelt-all of them, gone from his mind, while he and his mate lay side by side. He opened his mouth to reply, but then he heard cats begin to pass by them. Ashpaw flattened down in the box, and Scourge placed a paw on top of his back, bright eyes peering out.

The ginger cats from before walked by with the fluffy white cat. The darker ginger sniffed the air. "I smell Ashpaw," he remarked, looking around. Scourge's heart leapt into his chest, and he prayed to the StarClan he didn't believe existed that they wouldn't find them, not now.

The paler one, the she-cat, said, "Fireheart, you're being ridiculous. Ashpaw crosses the border a lot to hunt, this is his favorite place. We need to get Cloudpaw home before we run into Tigerclaw or someone."

"Sandstorm, it smells _fresh_ ," the dark ginger tom insisted.

"I'm telling you, it's not! He's going to be back in camp when we get back, and he's going to be excited to see this one." She flicked her tail to Cloudpaw, who nodded eagerly, not even complaining of her annoyance with him. The two bickered back and forth while the white cat kept walking away, back toward ThunderClan territory, and eventually they dashed to catch up with him.

Ashpaw's belly filled with dread. "They're going to be expecting me back at camp," he mumbled. He didn't like the thought of struggling back through the territory with a torn pad and wounds that he wouldn't be able to explain. Even if he did somehow explain the wounds and pad with no punishment, that still meant a few days before he was able to see Scourge again. It felt so unfair to separate from him now, now at all times. "I don't want to go," he objected, looking up at the black tom.

Scourge sighed, glancing away as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. "You have to go if you have to go," he told the young cat. "But." His eyes refocused on Ashpaw. "If...If you want to come with me, I wouldn't object to that." Ashpaw sat up, too, and Scourge put his paw on top of the gray. "I will protect you. I promise you that. BloodClan life is not like your life, but I will keep you safe and warm and your belly full. Just like any life in the clan. I swear it."

Ashpaw's eyes flooded with anguish. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" objected Scourge.

"They're my clan. My family." He looked back over his shoulder. "Sandstorm, she's my older sister, and Fireheart has helped train me a lot, and Cloudpaw is my foster brother-and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Everybody in the clan is related. It'd be treasonous to just walk away and leave them all." He looked to Scourge. "I promise I'll find a way to be with you. After-After I'm made a warrior, okay?" He wouldn't live as Ravenpaw, the forever-apprentice. "I'll find a way to stay with you."

Scourge kneaded the ground with his paws, and he leaned forward to lick the torn ear once more. "Tell them you faced a particularly fierce rabbit," he advised, "and wash me off of your body so that they don't smell that you've been with me." He blinked his icy eyes. "Come see me soon, else I might come hunt you down." He would never dare have so much bravery. He wouldn't risk frightening away Ashpaw by hurting one of the young tom's friends. But he liked the idea of one day meeting Ashpaw on his own turf, deep in the deciduous forest.

"I will," promised Ashpaw. He rubbed his cheek against Scourge's, and he whispered, "I love you," to his ear. Scourge murmured those same words in return, and the gray cat tore himself away with such a reluctance that he didn't dare look back, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to convince himself to leave.

As the gray cat started back onto ThunderClan territory, he didn't have to look back to know that Scourge still stood in the box that they had shared. He felt those icy eyes on his pelt, and more than anything, he wanted to run back to the black tom-his mate. But he had other responsibilities. Would he really be able to leave ThunderClan to join Scourge? There was no doubt that he would have to choose between his clan and his mate. Scourge had a whole clan to lead, regardless of whether or not the clan was one in a conventional sense. He was just a cat of ThunderClan, and while he knew his clanmates would miss him, they would grieve and move on.

After he had taken a few steps into the treeline, he no longer felt the presence of Scourge clinging onto him, and he side, stopping to look at his reflection in a puddle. The tip of one of his ears had almost been bitten off. With a sigh, he groomed himself a bit more, but Scourge had mostly taken care of his wounds. They had all stopped bleeding, anyway, except for his pad, which began to leak again with his weight placed on it. "A particularly fierce rabbit," he whispered to himself with a chuckle. It would have to do. He licked his paw a bit more before leaping through the forest. He didn't run as quickly as he would have liked to, but he did manage to sneak past Sandstorm, Fireheart, and Cloudpaw, who had apparently stopped to hunt along their way.

Once he was near enough to camp, Ashpaw found a stream in which he bathed himself, washing all scent of Scourge from his body despite the chill in the nighttime air. Limping, he made his way through the front entrance of camp. No one had noticed his disappearance, but as he entered the camp, the cats perked up. "Ashpaw!" called Dustpelt, running to his apprentice. "Ashpaw, what in StarClan's name happened to you? Where were you?" He scanned the sodden cat with anxious eyes. "You're wounded." He turned to Swiftpaw and snapped, "Get Yellowfang, quickly." Dustpelt licked his fur the wrong way, but he didn't stop shivering, hamming it up just for them. "You shouldn't have been out of camp," scolded his mentor, who let him up to limp to Yellowfang's den.

The gray medicine cat flicked her tail to the moss. "Try not to get it sodden," she growled. She glared at him. "What did you do? Challenge a fox by yourself?"

"Um…" Ashpaw gulped. "It was a rabbit." Given her first premise, he knew that Yellowfang would never believe that a rabbit had sliced him up so badly. "Got away. Almost had it, but I fell in the stream." He shook his pelt out. "Ow! That stings!" he complained.

"Shouldn't have been out of camp," grumbled the medicine cat, and she didn't challenge him, for which he was very grateful. "Don't complain. You'll be out of training for a few days, especially with this one on your paw." She dabbed marigold poultices over his wounds, leaving his ear and the scratch above his eye alone. "I once knew a group of kittypets who left wounds similar to this," she remarked, and Ashpaw shifted uncomfortably, not saying anything. He couldn't look at her directly. She leaned nearer to him. "Ashpaw, if there is a threat to the clan, we need to know it."

The apprentice swallowed hard and managed to meet her bright orange eyes. "There isn't one. It was a rabbit." His tail tip twitched and his pelt was dangerously warm, but she didn't touch him, so she couldn't possibly know his secret. "Can I go now?"

She lashed her tail. "If you must. Stay off your paw for a few days. Everything else should heal quickly." He turned to leave the den right as Fireheart, Sandstorm, and Cloudpaw raced into camp with mouths full of prey.

He moved greet his friend. "I missed you," he said, and he touched his nose to Cloudpaw's.

Luckily, the white tom either didn't notice or was tactful enough not to mention his wounds (probably the former, given his next words) before he said, "Gee, you smell funny." Ashpaw scraped his bad paw over the ground in embarrassment. "I'm glad to see you, too," said Cloudpaw, and he licked his friend's torn ear. "C'mon, let's share some prey. Fireheart said we can." With a sigh of relief, the gray tom followed him to the fresh kill pile. It didn't matter that everyone mumbled under their breaths about Cloudpaw. The more cats who focused on Cloudpaw, the fewer who wondered what had happened to Ashpaw, who had wounded him, why he smelled faintly of twolegs and oil.

Did Yellowfang know? Probably. She spoke to StarClan, after all. But Ashpaw had a sense that she wouldn't betray him to his clanmates. But he didn't know that. What if she told them? What would become of him? He hated to consider it. Either they would exile him or they would force him to stay with them, and he didn't know which one of those options was worse. To be chased away from his family and the only home he'd ever known? Or to be held away from Scourge, his new mate, against his will? He couldn't decide which was worse. He wanted more than anything for Scourge to come join ThunderClan with him.

"Hello? Ashpaw? Have some grub, you look hungry." Cloudpaw nudged a squirrel at him for them to share. The gray lowered his head to nibble, and Cloudpaw followed the movement to whisper to him, "You smell like the twolegplace, you mousebrain!" Ashpaw flattened his ears and glanced at Cloudpaw with pleading eyes. "Listen, I'm not gonna tell anybody, but you've got to stop going there, okay? That twoleg food is _not_ worth it, I'm telling you. Not worth it. I never should had showed you that stuff in the first place."

As quickly as the panic had come, it was relieved, and Ashpaw almost laughed before he replied, "Of course. I'll stop going there. It's just hard to resist easy food."

He wouldn't sleep easily tonight, but who ever did?


End file.
